In My Bloodstream
by BetterNameToCome
Summary: Andrew Minyard was good at taking care of people, even if he never cared about himself. It only made sense he found himself as a sober companion. Perhaps in another life, he would have been playing alongside Kevin Day rather than picking the man up from the gutter. This life made sense for Andrew. What didn't make sense was Kevin's teammate Neil that Andrew couldn't shake.


The title is inspired by the song Bloodstream by Ed Sheeran.  
I got the idea for this story about a year back when I read Light with a Sharpened Edge /works/7787530/chapters/17764930 a Raven Cycle story by poetic_leopard.  
tw there is a reference to suicide (no attempts, simply Andrew being an asshole)

Andrew did not hate his life. That would require being invested in it, something he couldn't bring himself to be.

His cousin Nicky was invested for the two of them. His cousin was visiting him from Germany for the week, much to Andrew's annoyance. It had been 6 years since he graduated high school. He had assumed Nicky would have been done with him then, but as much as Andrew pushed his cousin away, he never was.

"Really, Andrew. Like three guys have hit on you, nothing?" he paused, as though expecting Andrew to do more than stare blankly at him.

Andrew poured another shot at whiskey for the next customer, paying no mind to his cousin. "I just wish you could find someone like Erik, you know? I just want you to be happy."

"Not my type."

Nicky sighed, "You know what I mean. You know there's this great guy, Jeremy at our firm. Next time you're in Germany I can introduce you."

"Don't think just because I'm a work I won't stab you." Andrews told him.

At his words, an approaching customer side-eyes him before they changed directions towards Roland.

Nicky continues to go on about finding happiness and maybe a new job that doesn't involve alcoholics.

Andrew switches his focus to the customer, seemingly melting into the bar. "Poor Day, guy can't catch a break, can he? Sometimes all a man needs is a drink in peace, yeah? Those NBC bastards sound just like my Melinda always prattling on…"

Andrew patiently poured him another shot of whiskey and let himself consider the irony of his situation. Andrew had two jobs, creating alcoholics and fixing them. Eden's worked well around his unpredictable schedule, besides he could appreciate symmetry.

"Andrew! Andrew! Are you listening to me?" Nicky demanded. Once he was satisfied that Andrew was again acknowledging him he went on. "I did miss you, both of you. Germany is amazing, but I miss having my own family. Sometimes I feel like a leech on Erik's family you know."

"So, you'd rather be a leech on me?" Andrew asked, ignoring any acknowledgment of his brother.

Nicky went on. "They only signed up to take in this American kid for a year, yet here I am. The sad gay whose parents don't love him, refusing to let go."

"You're an idiot." Andrew reminded him. "The Klose's chose to take you in. Erik chooses to be with you and the Klose's chose to continue to invite you to family event's because that's what you are, so stop bitching."

Nicky gave him a soft smile. "See, this is why I missed you."

Andrew considered the repercussions of throwing Nicky out of the bar and decided against it. "I'm going on break, don't follow me."

"I won't. You know I hate the smell of your smoking. You really should quit." Said Nicky.

Andrew ignored him, turning around to the kitchen. Roland grinned at him as he walked past.

The other staff at Eden's twilight had long since learned to ignore Andrew, a few of the new ones still seemed afraid of him, eyeing him as he shuffled through his locker for his phone and cigarettes.

His phone lit up with a new message from Bee. Betsy Dobson had adopted him over his brief stint in rehab. They rarely spoke now, except for the occasional check-in and Bee referrals. She was the one to suggest becoming a sober companion.

Andrew did best when he was watching someone else's back. He had discovered this in juvy and again with his brother in school, not that he appreciated it.

**Hi, how have you been? I mentioned you to a patient of mine in need of a SC. They want to meet if you're interested. I can give you more details if you would like **** hope you've been well.**

He sent back a quick reply. He sat down in the courtyard behind the bar, his legs stretched out in front of him, pressing the back of his head against the brick.

He pulled out a cigarette and allowed himself a moment to not think and let the smoke pass over him.

Six years ago, he walked into his corrections officer's office and saw Kevin Day sitting there, promising to make him something. Andrew turned him down. Him and everyone else that tried to appeal to some dream that Andrew did not give a single fuck about.

Andrew didn't believe in fate, just cruel irony. Bee had told him who the patient would be, as well as the handsome fee they were willing to pay. So here he sat across from Kevin Day, Kevin the one locked up, offering a very different position.

Andrew wasn't sure why of all rehab for the great Kevin day to be sent to, he chose Columbia rehabilitation clinic, but who is he to judge. It had been a few years since Andrew had been a patient.

This time instead of Riko at Kevin's side it was his manager Cynthia and Coach David Wymack. Another person whose face he had laughed in.

He supposes the proximity to his father explained the choice in Rehab. 

"The position involves near constant supervision. You will accompany Kevin to training, games and anywhere else he may go. Under no circumstances is Kevin to consume any alcohol. Everything you witness under this position will have a strict confidentiality clause attached." The manager went on.

Kevin was hunched over in his chair, the arms awkwardly boxing in the athlete. Kevin kept his eyes locked on Andrew.

He did not appreciate it.

"You got it, Minyard? I don't care if we have to handcuff you together. He better not so much as eat spiked fruitcake on your watch, got it?" Wymack told him.

Andrew looked back at them blankly. He usually somewhat attempted to be civil in interviews, but they weren't exactly motivating him.

Cynthia gave Wymack a warning smile. "Mr. Minyard, do you have any question?"

"Why me? Why not someone with a Ph.D. and 20 years in the field for your precious star." Andrew asks, looking directly at Kevin, who had been suspiciously quiet so far.

"You have good references. " Wymack shrugged, "Besides we need someone who can keep up with Kevin's lifestyle and isn't afraid of to kick his ass into recovery."

Andrew turned his attention on Kevin, "What do you think of this, Day?"

Kevin gave him an appraising look, "I think you've wasted your life as a glorified babysitter when you could have been a star. I don't need a nanny. I need to get back on the court."

"A star like you? You're not a role model, you're a coward and an alcoholic." Andrew told him.

His eyes narrowed on Andrew. "At least I became something."

"You got the job, kid." Said Wymack, seemingly pleased with himself. "You got a car?" At Andrew's nod he continued, "He's released this Friday I expect you here to pick him up by 1 pm, got it?"

Cynthia was on her feet, hand outstretched immediately "We will email through your contract shortly. It will contain all the necessary information. We expect it signed and back by then. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Minyard."

He elected to not shake her hand, sparing a final t look at Kevin before leaving.

Kevin's bad attitude had not lessened over the week.

Kevin did not acknowledge Andrew as he strode out of the facility, planting him in the Maserati. Andrew was satisfied with this. The last thing he wanted to do was make small talk with the athlete.

He also did not want Kevin messing with his car, which he seemed intent on.

The radio began playing the sports station, which was the last straw.

Andrew whacked his hands away from the navigation, "Stop."

"I'm programming in the address of the court," Kevin said, giving him a nasty look, "Besides I refuse to suffer the car ride without the radio."

Andrew wondered if he could get a bonus if he didn't murder Kevin in the first week. "We are going to your apartment."

Just as the presenters began waxing on about Kevin Day unfortunate fall to the pressures of being a champion Andrew switched it off.

"I haven't played in two months. I need to practice." Kevin declared.

Andrew decided vodka wasn't Kevin's only addiction. "What you need is to go home and unpack. Two hours in your apartment then we go to the gym. I don't care what you do, knit yourself a noose for all I give a shit."

Kevin fell back into his chair, muttering to himself, "Aren't sober companions supposed to make me not want to drink."

The rest of the drive was in silence, except for the occasional muttered curse as Kevin clung to the interior handle as Andrew made a few riskier turns.

Kevin's apartment was less of an apartment than an entire floor, with his own attached gym.

This was of course where Kevin immediately headed.

Andrew decided to begin on his search of the apartment. Wymack had claimed to have already cleaned the apartment of any alcohol, but Andrew wasn't about to trust him.

The kitchen was far larger than one man could need, Andrew decided. It was all monochromatic black and white and white marble. A few of the cupboards were noticeably empty. He assumed this was Wymack's work.

Wymack had not however thought to clean out the fridge, which seemed entirely old vegetables gone to rot.

Andrew was disgusted, both at the kitchen and the knowledge he would have to go shopping.

When he was finished, he went past the gym to check that Kevin hadn't managed to fuck anything up yet.

The gym was made up of the usual equipment as well as a miniature court, where Kevin was deadly focused on barreling the ball towards set cones.

"Careful there, Day. Wouldn't want to get injured." Andrew called out.

"Fuck off, stupid midget babysitter fuck." Kevin cursed. "You could use the practice yourself. Just because you've decided to waste your life it's not an excuse to let your fitness go."

Andrew decided he found angry Kevin amusing. He had been considering taking advantage of the equipment, but now that Kevin encouraged It he would have to refrain.

He left Kevin to check the rest of the obnoxious apartment. Unlike the kitchen, most of the apartment was littered with bookshelves and trophies. Despite this, it was obvious Kevin was rarely home. He did, however, find a flask of vodka hidden away in one of the trophies.

From the hall, he could hear the front door swing open, with a shout. "KEVIN DAY, GET OUT COWARD ASS OUT HERE!"

Andrew followed the voice down towards the gym where the man continued to shout at Kevin. Andrew recognized the man as Neil Josten, the newest striker for the Barons.

He was shorter in person, only having a couple of inches on Andrew. He didn't dress like a professional athlete. He was flooded by an oversize sweatshirt and jeans. Those weren't the only thing that caught Andrew's attention, however.

Noticing Andrew, Neil froze. "Who are you?"

"Tooth fairy." He replied, "How did you get inside?"  
Kevin had managed to pull himself away from his court long enough to acknowledge the intruder.

Kevin did not seem happy to see him teammate "Are you here to train or waste my time?"

Neil turned his attention back to Kevin, "Qui est- il?"  
Kevin sent Neil a bored look, "Calme-toi, il n'est pas avec euz. Il est ma nourrice."

Andrew was unimpressed with the change in language. Perhaps he should try to pick up some French. He could tell this was going to become a regular irritation.

Josten's pale blue eyes eyed him suspiciously, "Je n'aime pas ça."

"Ce n'e'tait pas mon ide'e." Kevin loomed over Josten, but the asshole was clearly not intimidated,

"Do you mind?" Andrew interjected, "I'd prefer English."

They ignore him

"Se comporter," Kevin said in a warning tone. "We're going to the court now."

Josten seemed to perk up at the suggestion. He reminded Andrew of a puppy, a stupid single-minded puppy. Andrew resigned himself to his new job as a taxi service and grabbed his keys.

Andrew decided that Day and Josten weren't human. They practiced their drills with the intensity of men with guns to their heads. Andrew had taken up smoking on the bench, watching them.

Day kept barking at him about court rules, but Andrew didn't care. He had to pass the time somehow. He had grown bored quickly after the warm-up finished. Josten's squats could only entertain him for so long.

Andrew remembered seeing Josten's name in the news when his identity came out. He hadn't really paid attention, but it was hard to miss the dead son of a gangster's miraculous resurrection as an athlete.

After almost five hours Andrew put an end to their practice, much to Kevin's annoyance. "It's almost eight' o clock. Dinner." They seemed to give in at this, but Andrew had a bad feeling they weren't finished for the day.

Kevin immediately took off for the showers. Josten, however, was jogging towards him. He was greeted by a cloud of smoke to the face.

To Andrew's irritation, the man seemed to almost enjoy it, "You got a spare?"

"Not for you," Andrew replied.

Josten's auburn hair was matted down with sweat, falling into his eyes. Andrew fought the temptation to sweep it away.

Josten didn't take the hint and sat down next to him, seemingly satisfied to enjoy the second-hand smoke.

"You're not getting into my car like that," Andrew told him.

"I'm waiting for Kevin to be finished." The man sighed.

Andrew decided he couldn't stand the man, "Is your team too cheap for more than one shower?"

The man didn't respond, closing his eyes, leaning his head against the back wall. Andrew did not miss the sight of those eyes.

"I'm not waiting for you," Andrew added.

He shrugged. "I'll run then. I have a key, you can't get rid of me that easily."

Andrew wondered if Kevin would consider changing the locks.


End file.
